Work Text:
Gamzee really does have the most atrocious timing sometimes.
You're lying cuddled in a pile of pillows and blankets on your living room floor, watching The Wedding Planner, when he reaches up and squeezes one of your tits, muttering a little "honk" under his breath.
You yelp and smack at his hand, except of course he's already moved it so you end up hitting yourself in the tit, which is fine because it's what the fucking pain in the ass deserves, but it hurts and just why.
"Why," you ask. "Why would you do that."
Gamzee chuckles and buries his face in your cleavage. "So motherfuckin jealous of your tits, bro," comes out muffled by your sweater and lack of wearing a binder.
"You can fucking have them," you reply emphatically. "I sure as fuck don't want them."
Gamzee chuckles again, leaning up and kissing you sweetly. You shut up and kiss him back.
"Queer for you too, Karbro," he murmurs, snuggling back into you.
You smile but don't reply, and when the credits start rolling and Gamzee's snoring softly on your chest, you don't bother waking him.